The Rebels: Let the Games begin
by Jacob Ryder
Summary: After Katniss and Peeta comitting suicide, the 3rd Quarter Quell is sure to be brutal. Especially for the siblings of District 3 going in, Jacob and Mikayla.   Mostly OC.  I do not own the Hunger Games or anything by Suzanne
1. Prologue

(Howdy folks. As you may have noticed, I'm rebooting the story. I'm just trying to make it better for the readers. I would like to dedicate this version to CloudieDaze, my loyal follower.)

"On the count of three?"

Peeta leaned down and kissed Katniss on the cheek. "The count of three," he said.

They stood, their backs pressed tight together, their empty hands locked tight.

"Hold them out. I want everyone to see," he said.

They spread out their fingers, and the dark berries glisten in the sun. Katniss gave Peeta's hand one last squeeze as a signal, and as good-bye, and they began counting.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

They lifted their hands to their mouths, taking one last look at the world. The berries entered their mouths.

Then the horns began to blare. The frantic voice of Claudius Templesmith shouted above them. "Stop! Stop!" he said. Then quite nervously, "Um, ladies and gentleman, I am pleased announce that the rule is reinstated! "I welcome the victo-"

But it was too late. Katniss clenched Peeta's shoulders. He eased her down; a stream of blood was visible flowing down their shirts. They both smiled at each other for the last time. Then they closed their eyes.

Like that. Within mere seconds, two people have died and an entire nation has been consumed by chaos.

Katniss and Peeta were dead, leaving no champion to the 74th Hunger Games.


	2. Chapter 1 Obsolete

"Well come on up then!" Corra said nervously, trying to divert the attention from the blunder she had just made on national TV.

The Peacekeeper whom I had shoved wasted no time throwing me onto the podium. I immediately gained my footing and ran to my sister. She clutched my midriff as if it were a lifeline. I let her dry her eyes with my raggy shirt, as I looked at Corra to carry on.

"Kudos!" she congratulated. She leaned down close to me and whispered, "What's your name again?"

"Jacob Ryder."

"Congrats, Jacob Ryder!" she exclaimed, as if I said nothing. "Can we get a round of applause for this year's tributes?"

Not one person clapped. Maybe there still was hope for my District. After an awkward 8 seconds of silence, precisely one person out of the thousands clapped once, sarcastically. That was enough for Corra.

"Great!" She clapped rapidly. "And who could forget that this is the _75th_ Hunger Games? A Quarter Quell! Extra fun!" I grinded my teeth.

I just noticed a third reaping bowl. It must be for the Quells I suppose. Sure enough, Corra bounded over to it. Again, she dreadfully took her time. I prayed that it wasn't an awful thing. Like when there were twice as many tributes. I started breaking out in a sweat.

Finally, Corra opened the letter and read the words that were written in curly-que handwriting.

"As a reminder to the Districts that not only twenty-four children will become killers, but all of you will," Corra looked at everyone with interest. "Each day, every one in the District must vote for the next tribute to die, and then the method of death. For instance, at the start of Day Six, you must all place a vote on the next death to occur. Then you will all decide what will kill him or her. Say…. Bee Muttations?"

I sighed. At least they weren't forcing us to strangle each other to death, like in the 46th. We may still have weapons.

As the Anthem began playing, Mikayla let go of me. It took everything out of me to not cry. I couldn't even sing. But once my Peacekeeper buddy prodded me with his gun, I started again.

With the final lyrics, I took one last look at my District. I remember the 74th. District 12 had all given Katniss Everdeen a gesture special to their District. I read about how District 12 used it at funerals. But it was something kind. They had honored her with a simple gesture. With hollow hope, I waited for District 3 to do something similar. Just a simple salute. That's all I needed.

Nothing.

Filled with disappointment, we were escorted to the nearby Justice building by the Peacekeepers.

As soon as I enter, my sister is torn away from me. I try to fight back again, but to no prevail. They dragged her away in tears, while I fell limp, letting them take me away too.

The room I was in was amazing. It was beautiful, filled with expensive and interesting decor. I tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a home filled with velvet, granite, and other disgusting and wasteful materials.

I would hate it.

I waited for what seemed like too long for someone to come in to say goodbye. I wasn't expecting much, considering I wasn't very popular, especially in school. Perhaps, because I was poor? It didn't matter anymore. I was going to die. At least not too many people would miss me. Matilda? Yes. Adryana? Yes. But I doubt anyone else cared. So I plopped down on the overly-comfortable couch and waited.

The first person to come in was Matilda. The woman's eyes were red, she'd been crying. We normally didn't talk much, but I knew she loved me. I loved her too. For a moment, neither of us knew what to say. She put her hand on my shoulder, and I saw a single tear roll down her cheek.

"I remember the day you were born," she said. "I heard from my neighbor that my best friend was giving birth. I couldn't believe it. We'd waited much later than her due date. I was there in a heart beat, and luckily, I wasn't too late. I was next to your father the whole time. When I held you…" She squeezed my shoulder a bit harder. "All I could think was... This is all I want. A child. But… I could never find the right man." Why was she telling me all this?

"The only good thing that came out of your parents' deaths was that I got you two," she said as she wiped her eyes. "You and your sister were the best things that ever happened to me."

I had no idea what to say. Matilda never talked to me like this.

"I just wish you could both come back."

After that, I barley heard her words. They were white noise. Nonetheless, I appreciated everything. But because she said that, I finally accepted it. Only one of us was coming out. I loved this woman, but I tried to block out my emotions.

After a while, she held out her hand. My little toy was there. The gizmo was still a pyramid from when I had tossed it aside this morning.

"I know that it's one of the few things you have," she said. "Take it into the Arena. A token."

Just then the Peacekeepers came in. Matilda burst into tears as she hugged me once more. The men grabbed her arms and led her outside.

I choked up as I tilted my head back on the couch, overflowing with pillows. As I waited for something to happen, I unconsciously fiddled with my token. It became circular with a hole in the center. I found a piece of string in my raggy pants, and I slid it on. The make-shift necklace dangled from my neck in an odd circular motion. I closed my eyes.

As soon as I got comfortable, Adry came in. She quietly sat down. For a while, she remained silent. Finally, she looked up.

"I'm so sorry."

I didn't know how to respond. We weren't exactly in the warehouse, chatting casually.

"It's fine-" I started.

"No it's not!" she cut off roughly. "I practically gave your sister a death sentence!"

"It's not your fault…" I said quietly.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "She's going in. And you volunteered. But here's a thought though," She looked at me intensely. "What about the people who care about you? Huh? What about Matilda? What about _me_? I-I don't have anyone else. My mother doesn't even want me. My father is dead. You're my best friend. And what would volunteering do to help Mikayla?" She wasn't mocking me, it was an honest question.

"I'm going to protect her," I replied confidently.

"Well only one tribute comes out," she said in a small voice. But with horror, she realized what my plan was. "No. No. You can't!" She stood up.

"So you just want me to throw my sister out?" I looked at her with an astounded face. "Leave her? Let the Careers take a whack and slaughter her? And if it's any consolation," I clenched my fists. "Neither of us will probably be coming out. Just look at me." I held out my skinny arms for emphasis.

Adry gave up. She looked me straight in the eyes. The deep pools of blue were filled with tears. But this wasn't the Adry I knew. Only one droplet escaped. She wiped it on her sleeve.

"If you tell anyone I cried," she looked serious. "I'll kick your ass."

Finally, we smiled. Even under the circumstances, we were able to force out a laugh.

"If you think…" she choked out. "It's the right thing to do… Then do it."

I forced a smile. "I'll find a way."

We sat down for I don't know how long. We discussed my plans.

"You've seen every Hunger Games, right?" she said.

"Every one."

"Take into account all of the victors, especially ours. Use their strategies. Avoid Careers."

"Use the Arena to my advantage."

"Get allies."

"Run from the Cornucopia."

"Find a source of water."

"Play weak."

And we went on like that until it was time to go.

The Peacekeepers came in, to show that my hour was up. Adry cave me one last sheepish smile and got up. She leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear.

"Good luck."

Then she did something I never would have expected.

She kissed me.

For a good three seconds. As soon as she let go, I felt numb.

The insane girl bounded out of the room laughing.

"Hey!" she shouted to me.

I looked up.

"If you die in there, I'm gonna kill you." She smiled a genuine smile as the Peacekeepers guided her away.

And I just sat on that disgusting velvet couch, touching my lips gently, Adry's smile still frozen in my mind.

I laughed. Now I had a reason to come back. Is that what she had planned?

But a thought crossed my mind.

When the time came, would I kill myself for my sister?

**(Thanks for reading! I would especially like to thank Cloudie Daze for her support. Peace out!)**


	3. Chapter 2 Obsolete

As the Peacekeepers whisked us away, I tried to forget everything. I didn't want Adry getting in my way. Mikayla is coming out of there. I couldn't possibly let her die. Adry was playing with my emotions, was all. She wasn't really in love with me…

The moment I was taken out of the room, I saw my sister. We could talk, just not now. She reached out to me, but her Peacekeeper yanked her back. It was a short walk from the Justice Building to the Train Station. All along the way cameras followed us, and reporters asked question that just jumbled together. I completely ignored them.

Mikayla slowly crawled into the bus. She looked at me desperately.

The same Peacekeeper I was familiar with was the one to throw me onto the train.

"Oh Scarecrow," I said, fumbling to get up. "I think I'll miss you most of all."

Of course, he didn't get the reference, so he socked me in the jaw. It made a sickening crunch, which sent me stumbling to the other side of the room. When he walked away from the door, I yelled out something extremely vulgar to him. He turned around, and he tried to get me, but I slammed the train door shut. We started moving, and he tried to chase me for a few yards. That was enough to almost lighten my mood.

With the Atlantic Ocean to the East, we went Westward to the Capitol. Other trains would be picking up the other tributes. I thought about them. With all my concern with Mikayla, I forgot about myself. Someone was going to kill me. I'm a weakling. Some Career was going to slit my throat, the Capitol will put me in a box, and I'll be sent to my District for burial. Routine.

I clutched my jaw. I think the Peacekeeper broke it. Maybe it will make me look tough. I turned around to see my sister.

She stood there holding her stuffed rabbit by it's long ears. It was a raggy old thing, barley still in one piece. It was covered in stitches, from me fixing all of the tears. I suppose this was her token from Matilda.

Her face was one of pure dejection. It mirrored my own feelings that'd held in until this moment. I finally let my tears escape. After everything that happened today, I haven't spoken to my sister once. That bugged me.

As I looked around, the 6 victors and Corra were going to their personal cars. They seemed busy. We'd be in the Capitol in a day.

She stood there holding her stuffed rabbit by its long ears. It was a raggy old thing, barley still in one piece. It was covered in stitches, from me fixing all of the tears. I suppose this was her token from Matilda.

Her face was one of pure dejection. It mirrored my own feelings that'd held in until this moment. I finally let my tears escape. After everything that happened today, I haven't spoken to my sister once. That bugged me.

I slowly walked over to my sister. Even though she was 12, she seemed so young right now, clutching her toy. She looked so scared. Just the look on her face made me want to snap President Snow's neck. This was a little girl. She did nothing to the Capitol. She was innocent.

I leaned down and held her in my arms.

"Jacob," she cried. "Why did you volunteer? We're gonna die. Just please… please-"

I squeezed her shoulder. "Shh." I whispered. "Come with me."

I led her away, into her personal compartment. We both got one, containing a shower, dressers filled to the brim with clothes, and luscious beds with linen blankets. Disgusting.

I stepped out for a moment while she changed into something more comfortable. At last, she chose a pink, silk nightgown. I picked her up, being quite a feat considering how much she'd grown. I leaned into her ear. "My little princess…" I whispered. "You are so beautiful, Great Mikayla. Now rest." Was that it? A ghost of a smile?

I gently lay her down, and put the covers on her. I didn't need to talk to her. She was just fine being with me. She knew I'd keep her safe. She was smart for a 12 year old.

As I started to leave, I turned off the lights. She called out to me. "Jacob?"

I looked back. "Yes?"

"Can you…" she started. She looked like she couldn't figure out how to ask.

I went back to the side of her bed and leaned down. "Tell me."

"Can you…" she looked down, embarrassed. "Sing me ond of Dad's songs?"

I laughed. "Of course, Princess."

I wasn't great at a lot of things. I'm basically only smart. But for some reason Mikayla always begged me to sing a song to her before she slept. I knew what to do.

Our father was in charge of delivering District 3's goods to the other Districts. In the short time he had stayed in them, he had picked up a couple songs special to that district. Thanks to him, District 3 was very metro-cultural. He would come home and sing to the rest of the family. He had a great voice. Perhaps that's what Mikayla wanted. Maybe there was a trace of our Klaus Ryder of whom we'd loved. One song called Under This Tree had come to my mind. It was always Mikayla's favorite. I smiled at my sister as I began the song in a soft, gentle voice.

_"In the meadow_

_Only I know_

_How the wind blows_

_Where you left me_

_When the day breaks_

_How my heart aches_

_When I'm gone I still see your face"_

I pulled her covers higher up, and fixed her pillow.

_"I'll wait till the clouds float low_

_And in time you'll know_

_For you I'm waiting here_

_Green eyes turn blue_

_Lost I found you_

_Give me something to hold on to"_

She clutched her rabbit as her eyes started to flutter closed.

_"Day is closing_

_Darkness folding_

_Tears in her eyes_

_Can't say goodbye_

_In the meadow_

_Only I know_

_How the grass blows_

_Where you left me"_

She was asleep. She looked so peaceful; I didn't bother waking her up for the last verse.

_"And I whisper in your ear_

_As I stay here."_

I slowly got up, making sure not to wake her. I found a chair on the other side of the room and took my place in it. I didn't even bother going to my own room. Like a creeper, I sat next to my sister for hours, just watching her sleep. I wanted to protect her. Even on this ironclad train, days away from the Games.

Sooner than I hoped, someone opened the door. It was Corra. "Come on dears," she said. "It's time for supper."

I nodded briskly, and she left.

ooo

Dinner was magnificent. It came in courses. A platter with 20 different kinds of cheeses. A colorful salad. A soup that was so good, I couldn't place its flavor. Steak and fruit. And the most delicious, a turducken. It was a turkey stuffed with duck, stuffed with chicken, stuffed with crab like an edible Russian nesting doll. We finished up with several dishes of apple crisp. I ate as much as I could, but my stomach had trouble holding it.

I looked around at everyone at the table. All of the victors were eating silently, while Corra tried to make small talk. "This food is splendid," "I believe we're ahead of schedule," or "You children seem pleasant."

The victors were silent. Wiress seemed to be jumpy, so Beetee comforted her. Ronan barley ate a bite. Perdita left half-way through for something she wouldn't say. Milo stared out the car's window, watching the tree pass by. Kaya, on the other hand, was gobbling up every last bite. Half-way through supper, she drank a liquid that supposedly makes you throw up. She left for the bathroom, and came back to finish the rest of her food.

All in all, it was horrible.

Finally, we were done. We awkwardly left to another compartment to watch the Reapings. This was awful. I had to see the other twenty-two children that were supposed to kill me and Mikayla. But part of my strategy was to learn about the tributes we were facing. I needed to know what to expect. So I watched them be reaped one at a time, studying their faces.

District 1, Luxury Goods. Exalt Caret and Cherish Eclipse. I laughed at their cheesy names that the Careers always gave them. Anyway, they were the usual District 1's. They were volunteers for people they didn't even know. Exalt, the male, was bored looking boy. The way he moved his arms unconsciously made me think he was a swordsman. Cherish was a snooty girl drowning in make-up. She was probably good with knives.

District 2, Masonry. Denrik Chisel and Summer Anderson. Denrik was buff looking 17 year old. His fists were the size of baseball gloves. How ever how he fought-although I'm sure he could crush me with his fists alone-I figured it would be best to keep my distance. Summer... was different. She seemed so defeated. But once they called up a girl named Izabel, she immediately volunteered. She didn't acknowledge the crying girl as she came down. I couldn't figure her out.

District 3, Technology. I couldn't bear to watch it again. As I brought Mikayla out, I could hear the commentators laughing at my struggle with the Peacekeepers.

District 4, Fishing. Ben Jackson and Willow Rosenburg. Both volunteers, as usual for Careers. But 14 year old Ben had replaced a young boy by the name of Drizzle Jackson. There were lots of tears for them as Willow rolled her eyes. Yes, Willow. She automatically moves with a stride that shows that she work with spears. By the way she walks; it proves she's a silent killer. She works in the night.

District 5, DNA Muttations and Power. Jasper Crestel and Anthea Flynn. Jasper wore a hooded jacket, so I could barley see his face. But Anthea, strutted up onto the stage. She had a sparkle in her eye. She had a plan.

District 6, Medicine. Bren Munite and Sky Wolfe. Bren was 15, and had snow-white hair. When he saw Sky come up, he seemed terrified. I assumed they must have known each other. Otherwise, they didn't seem like a threat.

District 7, Lumber. Cleek Thicket and Shine Trifle. Cleek was tall, blonde and muscular. He would most likely be one of the Careers outside of 1, 2, and 4. Shine was a 16 year old girl who was shy and clumsy. Uncommon for a District 7'er, she stumbles around, and seemed like a klutz. 7'ers would use a battle axe if they could get their hands on it.

District 8, Textiles. Dosser Tweak and Bonnie Chessfeild. Dosser was tall for sixteen, had light brown hair, and seemed fit for a District 8'er. But Bonnie was a tiny 13 year old with blonde hair and a strawberry birthmark over her chocolate-brown eyes. I sighed, looking at Mikayla. It really is horrible to have such young tributes…

District 9, Artificial Goods. Ersatz Forge and Alex Archer. I barley paid attention to Ersatz. For some reason this one girl stuck out in my mind. She was a blonde 14 year old, who volunteered for a tough looking girl who would probably make it to the final 5. She seemed confident. But before I could observe her more, we were onto 10.

District 10, Livestock. Damion Knox and Alimen Sinewcare. Alimen was just a scared girl. Damion was a tall blonde who seemed confident in himself. I should avoid him, because I think he's hiding something up his sleeve.

District 11, Agriculture. Emerson Lativa and Lucy Crawford. Emerson wasn't very tall for 15, and kept his head down the whole time. Lucy though, was about twelve or thirteen. I winced at seeing another young tribute. They were both dark-skinned and dark haired.

District 12, Coal. Dense Allotrope and Lythium Baren. Dense looked very frail, as if he hadn't eaten in a long time, as did Lythium. But she seemed somewhat muscular for a 17 year old. They both had dark hair, and seemed poor and under-fed. I felt empathy for them, not being well fed most of my life. I couldn't help but wish that they could win too…

After the anthem, we were done.

The next hours were gone before I realized it. I just wondered the train, exploring. I visited my personal compartment and took a shower. The warm water was like nothing I've ever had before. Afterwards, I tried out a green shirt and a deep blue jacket. It fit perfectly, and it wasn't in pieces like most of my clothes.

Soon enough light flooded the cabin. The train slowed to a halt, the stop knocking me off my feet. As I stumbled out of my room, I grabbed Mikayla. We were still going to be together throughout this whole ordeal. As the cabin door slowly hissed open, all I could do was stare in awe.

The Capitol was like than nothing I had ever seen.

The awfully colorful buildings were huge and towering. They coiled upward, as if trying to touch the sky. The streets seemed to be works of art themselves. They were widely paved mosaics of images that jumbled together. And the people. The fake and plastic Capitolites were nauseatingly florid and gauzy. They all rushed over to see the District 3 tributes for themselves.

As we were taken into custody, I looked at all of them with a big smile. But inside, all I could feel was a deep, seething hatred.

**(All credit for the song goes to PumpkinsAtTheDisco on YouTube. The song is Under This Tree (Original Song). Look her up; she has an awesome Sims 2 Hunger Games series. I'll put a link to her in my profile. Thanks again, R/R. By the way, I almost cried writing about Mikayla. Just to show how much of a dork I am. :P)**


	4. Chapter 3 Obsolete

This was humiliating.

I stood fully nude in front of these three alien beings. Also known as my prep team. Salencia, a woman with neon yellow hair, who let her matching nails grow to 4 inches long. I was afraid she was going to rip me apart like a bear. Chamberlain, a spray-tanned man with odd orange tattoos that spread across his face. And Viola, a woman who had dyed her hair, painted her nails, and bleached her skin. All red. Apparently it was "stylish", but to me she just looked like she was an overgrown lobster. Or she had a bad case of sunburn. These thoughts were the only thing keeping me from screaming out.

Needless to say, I wanted out of there.

They ran around me, inspecting every square inch. (At one point Chamberlain even looked down my throat, as if it mattered.) They took miniscule tweezers and plucked my hairs out one by one. I hated the pain, but there was nothing I could do. Without my hair, I felt more naked than I already was. I honestly couldn't understand how I felt self-conscious around these people. They were barley human.

They made comments like, "How filthy!", "I thought District 3 was cleaner than this," or "Quit grinding your teeth, the audience will think we're an awful prep team."

Finally, they were done.

I eagerly grabbed my sage green robe and put it on as the stylists swarmed around me. Salencia grabbed my wrist. "You're nails are acceptable."

Suddenly Chamberlain lifted my leg up. "And we've done all we can for your feet."

And Viola rubbed her fingers through my jet black hair. "And I believe your hair is a lost cause."

My eye twitched with annoyance.

As I swatted her hands away, I heard something. In the corner of the room, a woman walked out of the shadows. She clapped her hands graciously as she exited the shadow. I suppose she wasn't grotesque like most Capitolites. I daresay she was even pretty. On a some-what normal way. She had pitch black hair (most likely dyed.), cut off roughly at her shoulders. She wore black eyeliner, and dark clothing. Despite her gothic appearance, her soft, untouched brown eyes hinted at being a nicer person.

"You may leave now," she said politely to the stylists.

"But-" Salencia started, but the woman gave her a firm, yet gentle look that shut her up. My prep team collectedly left the room.

I tried to figure out what to say. "Um," I started. "Are you?-"

"Yes," she smiled. "I'm your stylist. Darby Sarden."

"May I-"

"You may keep your robe on."

I silently said a thank-you prayer.

She took my hand and led me to a couch on the other side of the room. As I plopped down on the sofa, she stood looking at me.

"You're a good-looking boy," she said. Creepy. She looked me over once more when she turned to the mirror. I slowly got up and joined her. She brushed her fingers through my shaggy hair. It was black, like most of District 3, but a bit longer. It was roughly cut just past my ears, and swept to the left. I couldn't afford hair cuts at home, so I did it myself. Not always such a good idea.

"Your hair is..." she bit the side of her lip as she tried to think of the word. "We don't need to do much. Just a little..." She gave me a sheepish smile and led me to the chair in front of the mirror. I touched my lips as I waited for Darby to do something.

A moment later, she took a tarp apron and placed it over me. As my head went through, I looked at the shelf beneath the mirror. It was covered in tools and trinkets that scared me witless. Who would need to use a power drill in a Remake Center?

Darby must have sensed my nervousness because she laughed. She picked up the drill and revved it twice. "This won't hurt a bit," she said with a smirk.

My eyes were the size of plates. Darby laughed and set the tool down. Instead she picked up a pair of shears. "I would leave your hair alone," she said as she stepped behind me. "But I need to clean it up."

She slowly raked a comb through the mess at the back of my head. As she snipped it off, I winced. "Don't worry," she consoled. "I'm not going to hurt you." She snipped again.

"Do you have a strategy?" she asked curiously. I glanced up at her questioningly. "For the Games."

Oh. "Well..." I started. "I suppose. I use to watch a lot of them. I'd always study the repeats of past Games. So I guess I'll do what the Victors did. They won for a reason."

"You're smart," she said. Snip. "We may just have a new Victor." Snip.

That was like a punch in the gut. "That's just it," I whispered. "I don't want to win."

Snip. "Well why on Earth not?"

"I-" I almost stopped myself. Why should I spill my heart to some dire Capitolite? But there had be someone in this whole blasted country that's worth shooting, right? So I gave it a shot.

"I'm here for my sister."

She stopped and studied my face for a moment, then resumed cutting. Snip. "That's right," she said. "You two are siblings."

"You didn't see the Reaping?" I scrunched my face up in confusion. Why would a stylist, whose job relies on it, not watch a Reaping? An enigma that got me desperate for an answer.

"No," my stylist replied simply. "Those abominations are revolting. How could they tear apart families like that?"

"Of course, the Reapings are awful," I whispered sarcastically. It was more to myself then her. I was appalled. The Reapings were only the beginning to the pain and suffering we were about to face. "It's not like the Games are all that bad."

She gave me a sufferable look. "I don't appreciate that," she scolded. "I don't happen to enjoy these monstrosities by the guise of 'Games'. Not all of us Capitolites are beasts. Only, 70, 75% tops." Snip.

I laughed. Darby wasn't all that bad. The best Capitol resident that I know of, at least. She had good intensions and she seemed normal (Being a Capitolite, that's saying a lot).

"But doesn't your job rely on the Games?" I asked. "How can you hate them if they put food on your table?"

"Do you love your job?"

Personally, I was offended. I think being an assembly line worker was much more different than dressing pigs for slaughter. Snip.

"How is my sister?" I suddenly asked. She seemed to be done with my hair, as she set down the shears.

"Bruno is taking care of her," she replied without looking at me. She walked over, her boots causing an echo to sound throughout the big room. "He's a bit eccentric, but…" She shrugged as she took off the tarp.

The boy in the mirror was a surprise. He was the same person, only cleaner, more brisk. His hair wasn't as shaggy, but it was medium length, just covering his ears. It was straight, yet circling his head in a sweep. He was actually handsome. But he scolded himself once he realized he was thinking in 3rd person again.

The boy in the mirror was a serendipity. He was the same person, only cleaner, more brisk. His hair was straight, circling his head in a sweep. He was handsome. But he scolded himself once he realized he was thinking in 3rd person again.

Darby patted me on the back. "I believe you're ready," she said. She led me back to the futon, and we sat down. "Bruno and I have been working on your costumes."

Oh yeah. Costumes. District 3 normally received things to do with technology. I heard somewhere that Bruno took charge of the designs. He was the Alpha stylist. But from my experience (Experience, as in the past 10 minutes) Darby seemed more mature. Bruno's costumes were extreme hazards. 3 makes cars, so he once thought he could turn the Tributes into giant engines. They went into the Arena with major burns. That was nothing.

"Have you heard of Cinna?" she asked suddenly. Cinna? I might have heard his name once on the TV. I think he was a stylist for District 12.

"I believe so."

"Well," she said. "He was only a stylist for the last Games, but he was one of the best stylists there were." She looked through me, as if remembering him. She said it was two years ago, but she acts like it's been forever. "Well him and I were... _closely acquainted_. He and I exchanged ideas. We came up with the prosthetic fire. Do you remember?" I nodded. Who could forget?

"Stylists are not supposed to socialize with each other, so the idea was credited to him and his partner _Portia_." By the way she said her name; I didn't think she liked her very much. "But he helped me with an idea for District 3 also."

Darby stood and opened the chest between the sofas. She held up a long, clear tube with a kind of liquid inside. It emanated a deep green glow, like glass neon bulbs (I've seen people in factories in District 3 that made them). But this rubber should denigrate if that was real neon. Darby must have read my mind, yet again.

"That's just it," she winked. "It's a special rubber. We muttated a rubber tree to have a stronger sap. The compound we made is extremely flexible and can contain toxic gasses." She got up, excitedly, then turned serious as she looked at me.

"But it's a work in progress," she said. "Don't move too much. If it snaps, you might die."

Wonderful.

**(Sorry for the long wait, computer virus. I'll get on when I can.)**


	5. Chapter 4 Obsolete

**(Sorry!**

**My computer broke down, so I lost all of my files. I have to rely on my sister to let me use her laptop, so I won't be able to update for a while. :/)**


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